Something to Live For
by Incessant MoonyLicious Funtime
Summary: Harry goes through a metamorphisis that changes his life forever.  How will his supposed "greatest enemy" react?  Warnings: Self mutilation, slash.
1. Metamorphisis

A/N: I am writing this in response to Shadow-Ravin's challenge. I hope you like it, dude/ett!

I knew not where I was, nor what was happening to me. The world was blurred and skewed, though I knew I was wearing my glasses. More to the point, besides those obvious details, there wasn't much else I could focus on besides the pain.

It burned though by body like wildfire, uncontrolled, unceasing, undeniable… I knew it was changing me. I was not afraid, per se, for anything would be better than the life I currently lived.

What was changing, though? From the feel of it, my whole body was being transformed, twisting out of proportion before settling back into its new shape. There wasn't a doubt in my mind how I had ended up here, however.

*FLASHBACK*

The trees were predominant in the area, and I could almost feel them watching me. It was otherworldly how their stares seemed human… But there was nothing human about it at all. It was wilder, more intelligent…more dangerous. I panicked, unreasonably, it seems now. They would have caught me anyway.

I ran. They chased. I fell. They laughed. I attempted to get back to my feet, but I was bowled over by a man who couldn't have been any older than me. He smiled maliciously, baring his teeth at me.

The man was pale, yet not sickly so. He was thin, but in a lithe way. Certainly, he was stronger than I. His eyes were a creepily pale shade of blue. I hardly had time to register this before he shoved something into my mouth.

He held my nose pinched together and clamped his hand like a vise over my spluttering lips. I couldn't breathe – I had to swallow. Whatever it was, I could only describe it as vile-tasting. A tingle went through my body. The man smiled and walked away from his victim. From me.

*END FLASHBACK*

What was I becoming? A monster? I sincerely hoped not.

The pain dulled, and then came to a stop. My body felt…dirty, as if I hadn't showered for a few days. Being out on the wilderness, I knew that there were no convenient bathrooms nearby, I went to look for a river or stream.

As it turned out, there was one not far from my grassy pyre. With a sigh, I dropped to my knees in front of it and splashed some onto my face. The coolness of it was relief on my heated skin. That was when I saw my refection in the rippling water.

AND scene! I'll try to update tomorrow. It's a work in progress. Woot!


	2. Captured

My new eyes - the left one midnight blue, the right one a glistening silver - widened a bit at my new appearance. The line of my body my sharper and more defined. I was lithe, with a musculature that looked, as well as felt, powerful. My cheekbones were sharp and aristocratic. My hair was still black, but now it was darker, if that was even possible. What was most prominent to me, however, was the fact that my ears now tapered to severe points.

I started to hyperventilate. An elf? The bastard turned me into an _elf?_ How crazy was that? Very!

After I had calmed down, I pulled out my wand and apparated to just outside of Hogwarts. I ran the rest of the way, my newly fleet feet getting me there faster than they ever could have before. I burst in the front doors, and made my way down to Dumbledore's office. I reached the staircase barrier and muttered the password, hoping it was the same as last years. Sure enough, the stairway unwound in front of me and I ran up.

I was to be faced at the top by a very smug looking Dumbledore and a very gloating Voldemort. Voldemort was not as I had last seen him – he had reverted back to appearing as Tom Riddle. He was smirking, though. It was telltale enough.

"Ah, Harry! You're just in time. I'm sorry about this, Harry, but you're putting too many people in danger just through your existence. Goodbye, Harry Potter." Dumbledore did not look sorry in the least.

Voldemort strode forward and grabbed my arm painfully and I was flung into a world of darkness with which I was not familiar.

A/N: Sorry! That was a really short one. I just don't have my muse on today.


	3. Pained

*FLASHBACK*

I was heading back to the Gryffindor common room, but stopped dead when I heard voices:

"Why do we even pretend to like him?" It sounded like Ron.

"It should be obvious, Ron," said Hermione's voice. "We're in it for the fame. 'The Golden Trio'?"

"Oh, right," agreed Ron.

What? They only liked me for my fame? My hands started to shake, and my knees went weak. I had to lock them in place to keep standing up.

Was no one truly able to sympathize with me? A burst of adrenaline washed through my body.

I started running. I pushed people out of my way, not caring whether or not they fell. I ran until I was off the Hogwarts grounds, until I was running through a forest that was fast becoming dark. I stumbled; fell. I picked myself up off the forest floor, and that was when I felt their presence.

*END FLASHBACK*

I woke up slowly, and painfully. I was in a cell, presumably one located in or near Voldemort's hideout. They pain was coming from the fact that I was slumped uncomfortably against a stone wall. Huh. He must want me awake for the torture.

Even as I thought that, Voldemort appeared in front of the bars of my cell. My eyes flashed in anger, and I knew he could see it. He laughed at my futile fury.

"I believe," he stated, "that this will be very enjoyable. Not for you, however. _Crucio!_"

The pain was unbearable, yet at the same time, I found myself receiving a margin of relief from the pain. It almost felt – _good_. After a few minutes of watching me writhe in pain (and, though he didn't know it, pleasure), he pulled the curse off of me and smirked at my gasping form lying on the floor. He walked away.

Since I had nothing better to do, I decided to experiment with my newfound hobby, masochism.

I pounded the stone walls with my fists, reveling in the sensation of fractured knuckles. Sitting down, something sharp poked my backside. It was a rock. A sharp one.

Smiling, I drew it down the length of my forearm, trying not to be stupid and kill myself. It was a relatively deep wound, and stained my skin red. Pleased with the results, I pulled off my shirt and drew it in messy lines across my abdomen and chest. The pain felt so good compared to the reality of my life. My vision blurred, and I fell into sweet unconsciousness.

A/N: Yes, I'm ending it here! I had some complaints about speed and plot, so I tried to go slower and explain some things. Should I move this to M because of the descriptions? R&R!


	4. Interlude: Reason

A/N: No, I'm not dead. Here's your chapter.

Dumbledore PoV

"Why did you give up the boy, Albus?" Minerva asked me, looking somewhat askance.

I shrugged. "Simply because he was in my way." A baffled look came to her face. "You see," I continued, "he was supposed to have died in his second year, during his display of heroism in the Chamber of Secrets."

"But why now, Headmaster?"

"He was a nuisance, and nuisances must be disposed of."

Hermione PoV

Merlin, the things duress can make you do.

Since first year, Dumbledore had threatened me at wandpoint to be "friendly" with Harry Potter. He'd told me to convince Ronald the Daft, as I call him, as well.

He didn't take much convincing. I told him he'd be famous if we did absolutely _everything_ with Harry.

So, of course, I had to follow suit. Simple things, life-threatening things, EVERYTHING.

And so we did.

Harry PoV

*FLASHBACK*

I'd started cutting myself after Sirius died. Some times were worse than others, but I'd never passed out or died – obviously.

But my only family, my last true connection, was gone. I wanted to make the pain physical, so I could deal with it better.

And I could. But I had no one to turn to. Ron wouldn't understand, and Hermione would tell someone.

After Sirius's death, I became much more disconnected from my friends. We didn't talk as much as we used to, and, slowly but surely, we grew farther and farther apart.

*END FLASHBACK*

A/N: Sorry about all of the PoV switching. I was trying to explain some things and really get in-depth with the story, so there you go. I do enjoy helpful criticism. No flames, please.


	5. Rescued

Voldemort PoV  
I tried to push Potter's pain out of my mind. The stupid connection was forcing me to feel the aftereffects of the Cruciatus curse that I'd placed on Potter.  
Although I knew it wasn't my pain, I still felt it, and I was relieved when it wore off.  
My relief, however, was short-lived.  
Soon after the pain from the curse dissipated, my hands started to ache in sharp jabs, about every two seconds. It felt like all my knuckles had fractured and my skin was cracked and split.  
My left arm began to burn in hot lines, and that was when I started walking to the dungeons.  
Impossibly, the pain doubled and redoubled when I felt jagged lacerations appearing on my-no, his-stomach. At that moment, I apparated, just in time to see Ha-Potter fall unconscious against the rough floor of his cell.  
"Timbit!" I called. The quivering house elf appeared immediately. "Tell Severus to stop whatever he's doing and come quickly, with healing potions!"  
"Y-y-yes, Master," stuttered the small creature, and disapparated with a pop.  
I rushed in to Har-Potter, and muttered some healing spells over him. They didn't do anything. But they always worked, unless the wounds were...unless they were self-inflicted.  
My eyes widened at the revelation. He cut himself? Since when? Why? And why do I care?  
Severus apparated behind me, and I could hear the clank of glass vials as they were enlarged from their shrunken state and readied for usage. He knelt down next to me, closer to Harry's head, so he could pour the foul-smelling potions down his throat.  
Severus pulled out his wand, but I told him, "Don't bother. The healing spells won't work."  
He obeyed me and sheathed his wand, but gave me a quizzical look.  
I sighed and explained, "The wounds are self-inflicted."  
His eyes widened a bit, but he nodded solemnly before asking, "Who is this anyway?"  
"Harry Potter."  
Already wide eyes opened more. He seemed to blush. How pathetic. I could feel the tension literally rolling off of him in waves. He ripped off the hem of his cloak and used in to bind up Harry's arm, and then took the cloak off completely and used it stanch the blood flow from Harry's abdomen.  
"Hold on tight," I told him, and he grasped my shoulder while I held Harry's good wrist in a death grip and apparated to Malfoy Manor.

Yeah, it's short, I couldn't get my muse on, but I have a good idea for the next one, and this just seemed like a good place to end it.


	6. Tyrannus

Harry PoV  
The black faded to red, and I woke slowly, painfully. I was aware first of presence beside me, and the warmth of another hand in my own. Worried eyes hovered above me, surrounded by the pale face and black hair that I knew so well. "Sev?" I mumbled tiredly.  
"Harry!" he exclaimed. "What were you thinking? You could have killed yourself! For that matter, you almost did kill yourself!"  
I frowned weakly. "That was the point."  
"What? Why?" he asked, his dark eyes wide.  
"I thought it was the end, that _he_ would eventually kill me anyway. I decided it was better to die sooner rather than later."  
His eyes filled with a depth of sadness I did not know existed.  
"But there were other scars, Harry," he said. "What are _those_ from?"  
I swallowed. "What other scars?" I asked weakly, feigning indifference, albeit badly.  
"Don't lie to me, Harry," he warned, eyes darkening.  
"It was after Sirius died," I explained hesitantly, looking down in shame. "No one could understand. Hermione would tell, Ron wouldn't get it, and you'd get mad."  
"I'd never get mad at you, Harry. That's impossible," he murmured, his eyes softening.  
My own eyes burned with tears. "I didn't know what else to do. I can't deal with emotional pain, Sev, you know that!"  
"Shh, calm down, Harry," he said, sensing my impending emotional breakdown.  
He was the only person who knew me for who I was. We'd been together for three years now, and we appreciated each other's flaws and strengths. He was my everything, and now, he was the only one I had left.  
By this time, I was coherent enough to notice that we weren't anywhere I recognized. "Sev, where are we?" I asked once I was calmed down enough.  
"Malfoy Manor," he replied. Getting up, he continued, "I must tell the healer that you're awake." He squeezed my hand, and left.

_Crack!_

Someone apparated off to my side. I turned my head, and my jaw fell to the floor. The man was lithe; his piercing blue eyes an almost scary pale shade of the color. There was a twinkle in his eyes that matched poise, which just screamed carelessness. His silver hair hung long around his shoulders.

"Young love," he sighed. "So sweet."

"W-w-what are y-you d-d-doing h-here?" I managed to stammer out.

He smirked. "Well," he began, "For one, I thought you might like to know just what has happened to you. Otherwise, there is the matter of your inheritance to discuss."

"I want to know who you are first," I demanded.

"I am known by many names, but you may call me Tyrannus."

"Okay, _Tyrannus,_" I said scornfully. "Why'd you turn me into an elf?"

Tyrannus burst into laughter. "An elf?" he scoffed. "Where did you come up with that conclusion? No, boy, you are no elf. You have become a faerie."

"What? Wait. Does that mean I have to wear a dress and be some random kid's fairy godmother?"

Tyrannus facepalmed. "You are hopelessly confused. No. You are a faery, or, more specifically in your case, a sylph. What that means is that you can control the air. I recommend avoiding iron, however, as it will burn you, or make you sick to be within its proximity. Now, on to your inheritance. I do not mean as funds, or as possessions. I speak of your wings, and your abilities." He walked up to me, and gave me an order to "Stand up," though I mostly did it out of confusion rather than free will. He tapped a spot on my back, between my shoulder blades.

I felt something writhing beneath my skin there, and I wanted to reach back and scratch the itch, but before I could, two dark wings spread out on either side of me. They looked frayed at the edges, but felt strong. For the most part, they were black, but shot through with deep blue and pale yellow that twisted in thin, intricate patterns. The wingspan was easily twice my arm span, and the tips looked wickedly sharp, but in reality I knew that was the most vulnerable part.

"Give me your hand," Tyrannus said, and I obeyed. He took it, and sketched a strange symbol into the back of my hands with his finger. He muttered, "_Suscitatio vetus vox Aer, quod pario suus plenus vox huic voluntarius animus." {Latin Translation: Awaken the old powers of Air, and bring forth its full power in this willing soul.}_ I gasped as air rushed around me in a whirlwind, and pushed me down onto my knees. I could feel the wind seeping through my pores and into my veins, changing me forever. When all the air had soaked into my skin, I stood up quickly and glared at Tyrannus.

"What did you _do_?" I questioned angrily, pointing my finger at him menacingly. He flew back into the wall with a loud smack.

Tyrannus stood up shakily, brushed himself off, and then said, "There are only two more things you need to know. If the need arises that you must hide your wings, say '_Occulto meus pennae!'_ {Conceal my wings!} When you wish to reveal them once again, speak the words, '_Ostendo sum meus pennae!_' {Reveal my wings!} Best of luck. Good bye."

_Crack!_

Apparently I didn't get much help with this.

A/N: Thanks to sweetyamiyugigirl for the idea of having Tyrannus come and pay a 'visit'! And my severely appretiated beta, lasweetie. Thank you always!


	7. Masochism

There was immediately a knock at the door. "Harry? What was that sound? Is someone in there with you?"

"Umm, no, Sev, everything's fine!" I called quickly, while trying to recall the words that Tyrannus had told me to say to hide my wings. _"__Occulto meus pennae!" _I whispered hurriedly, and the wings quickly receded back into the skin of my back, making me feel as if I'd lost part of myself.

Severus opened the door and gave me a strange look. "Are you sure you should be standing up?"

"I'm perfectly fine, if a little sweaty," I responded.

"Then why is your shirt ripped in the back?" he asked suspiciously.

"…It…must have caught on the railing when I got out of bed," I stammered out quickly.

He eyed my doubtfully, then said, "Lord Voldemort wants to speak with you."

I swallowed involuntarily. He may have saved my life, but he'd also tried to kill me on multiple occasions. There was no way around it this time, however. I was going to have to talk to him. "When?"

"…Now." He stepped out of the way of the door, allowing Voldemort to come in.

"Leave," Voldemort ordered him. It seemed like Severus was about to protest, but then thought better of it and left. Voldemort shut the door after him, and then turned to me. I saw that he had been restored to the appearance he'd had as Tom Marvolo Riddle. "So, Potter. I never thought you a masochist."

A/N: I know, I know, it's short, very short. But I wanted to get SOMETHING out. I've been neglecting most of my fics. *dies*


End file.
